


Christmas Morning

by hmg621



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Morning, Drabble, In this house we respect and love Mycroft Holmes, M/M, No Dialogue, POV First Person, christmas drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 17:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17084897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmg621/pseuds/hmg621
Summary: Morning after the Christmas party, Mycroft and Greg wake up in bed together.





	Christmas Morning

**Author's Note:**

> This is intentionally ambiguous about who's POV it is. Who's the top? Who's the bottom? You decide.

It all started at the Baker Street Christmas party last night. Pleasant conversation and flowing drinks.

And now you're here. 

The scent of last night still heavy in the air. Crumpled sheets the only thing between you. The light of Christmas morning streaming through his window, playing off his skin. 

God, he's gorgeous. 

But what were you thinking last night? You haven't been this easy to get into bed since you were in your twenties. And now you're sore in places you forgot you even had. 

But, oh, it feels good. 

He's waking up.

There are those eyes. 

The eyes that you stared into all last night. All through the pleasant conversation and flowing drinks. And then there was the last look before you took the plunge and kissed him under the mistletoe. The surprise in his eyes that morphed into desire. How dark his eyes turned when he asked if you'd like to go home with him. And now how bright they look first thing in the morning. 

God, he has no right to look this good so early. It should be illegal for his lips to be so soft and warm. And now he's moving back on top of you, just where he was last night. 

Oh, God. 

Morning sex. 

When was the last time you had morning sex? 

And he's holding you again. You can't even remember the last time you were held like this. The last time you felt like this; for anyone. The last time someone looked at you like he's looking at you. 

With desire. 

With passion. 

Like he sees you. 

Like he wants you. 

Like you're some goddamn delectable treat. 

But doesn't he know? Can't he tell? 

But he's pushing into you for the second time since you fell onto the bed last night and all there is is him. 

And you. 

And his breath in your ear. 

And your hands on his back. 

And his lips on your neck. 

Your face. 

Your lips. 

And this feeling in your chest that you're sure has never been there before. 

Because of him. 

For him. 

And you know you'll spend every morning like this if he'll let you.


End file.
